On Friday, July 11, I saw the Oak Ridge Boys in concert, scored a VIP backstage pass and made a complete fool outta myself.

I know what you’re thinking. The Oak Ridge Boys? Aren’t you under 70 years old? Yes and yes to both questions.

While it's true that the Oak Ridge Boys have been touring longer than I’ve been alive, it is thanks to my dear old dad who introduced me to the music of the Oak Ridge Boys back when I was knee high to a grasshopper.

What makes the Oak Ridge Boys so great is that, unlike the vast majority of the music industry today, the Oak Ridge Boys don’t recruit a “sexy” guy or girl with a mediocre voice and technology to improve the sound of their voice. The Oak Ridge Boys sing with harmony, no effects or editing and with a full band making all the music. There are no shallow, repetitive lyrics about sex, drugs or money.

Don't get me wrong, I love most any type of genre, (well, except kill the puppy music) but most often I’m drawn to songs with fabulous harmony and thrilling voices all singing on pitch.

I can’t carry a tune in a bucket so I live vicariously through those who can.

Enter the Oak Ridge Boys.

Hubby has never been as big of a fan of the Oak Ridge Boys as I am. Although, I’m pretty sure he knows all the words to most of their songs from my obsessive preparation for the concert.

He decided early on that he would go along for the ride, but attending the concert wasn’t, at all, on HIS bucket list. I begged and pleaded but he was firm.

On our way to the concert our friends presented us with VIP backstage passes. I nearly hyperventilated. Hubby was convinced that watching me meet the Oak Ridge Boys would be the highlight of his night.

I didn’t disappoint.

Twenty minutes before the concert began, a small herd of us were ushered through a security gate and around their bus and suddenly I’m standing directly across from THE Oak Ridge Boys.

I began to hyperventilate again, jaw agape.

What to do? How do I best approach? Casually? With vigor? Should I approach them the way I would an old friend? Should I just walk up, extend my hand, and give a hearty, “Ahoy?”

When it was my turn I became tongue-tied and flummoxed.

I rushed over to them gushing, not really making any distinguishable sense. They smiled politely and Hubby snapped a picture.

Page 2 of 2 - Despite the fact that Hubby chopped our heads off, two of the Oak Ridge Boys that I was standing between are distinguishable enough that I will use it as proof that I met them.

After the concert Hubby and I became separated from the rush of the crowd leaving, so I wandered over to the bar and sat down to wait for him to find me. In the meantime I struck up a conversation with a group of people who were staying overnight to attend the following day’s concert. One of the guys elbowed me and said, “Richard Sterbon, the bass singer from the Oak Ridge Boys, is sitting at the end of the bar over there.”

I leaned over and sure enough–There.He.Was.

Shortly thereafter Richard got up to leave and the group asked if they could take a picture with him. I wasn’t invited to be part of the picture, but as soon as it was taken I rushed up to Richard and mumbled something indistinguishable–yet again.

Later the next day I received a text from one of my new friends I met at the bar that night who snapped a picture with Richard. The text included the picture and the caption read: “You photo bombed our picture!”

I took a closer look and sure enough! There I am in the background, sitting on a bar stool, smiling like a fool at the camera.